


danger in your kiss

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:12:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's when Maria Reynolds walks into her life.</p><p>(written for <a href="http://hamiltonprompts.tumblr.com/post/133034822383/au-where-eliza-is-the-one-who-got-with-maria">this prompt</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	danger in your kiss

**Author's Note:**

> written real quick for the prompt, 'AU where Eliza is the one who got with Maria instead of Alexander.' eliza is a cinnamon bun who would never, but this prompt was too tempting tbh. also: femslash.

Winter has struck the city and Eliza’s by herself; Alexander away on a business trip, the children at her father's, Angelica a ocean away, she wanders the halls and yearns for something or someone to break the silence.

That's when Maria Reynolds walks into her life.

She appears at her doorstep on a dark, stormy afternoon, alone.

“You're probably busy, I know, miss, but if you could spare me some time,” she says with breathless desperation and a small, coy smile; she looks like a bad idea, like a disaster waiting to happen.

But she's the brightest thing Eliza's seen in weeks, with her painted lips and red frock and eyes so deep and melting she could drown in them.  

“Of course,” Eliza responds and lets her in.

+

They sit at the table in the dining room, chairs close next to each other, Eliza resting her hand on Maria’s arm consolingly; the girl isn’t shaken, isn’t weeping, but there’s something distressed about her, something helpless about her youth and the way her sleeves slip down to leave her shoulders bare. Eliza gets a maid to make some tea and gets Maria to explain.

“I know you are a woman of honour; I’ve heard of your kindness from others, and I don’t know where to go, so I came here all alone.”

She says, “My husband’s up and gone, I don't have the means to go on.”

She says, “He’s nothing like your man, ma’am, he’s been mistreating real bad. I have nowhere else to turn, I don’t mean to be any trouble.”

She may be trouble; Hell, she _will_  be trouble— she knows that look, she’s not a fool, she’s not a naive girl wandering around New York anymore— but Eliza’s one of the lucky ones and she won’t be an idle rich woman, won’t turn her nose up at this helpless girl.

So Eliza offers her a loan, offers her a room for the night to stay away from the oncoming storm.

“Is there anything more I can do?” she asks, watching as Maria towels her damp curls dry.

“You’ve done more than enough,” she replies, looking up at her from beneath her lashes. “You're too kind, miss. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“To keep me company, that would be enough,” Eliza admits, feeling pathetic in her honesty, but Maria just smiles softly, her eyes— oh God, her eyes— her eyes are kind and searching and _dark_ , like the sky outside.  _  
_

“You miss your husband?”

“My children and my sisters, too,” Eliza responds. “Alexander’s been away often recently— he’s been very busy, so I’m—” She falters, doesn’t say _used to it_. 

“I understand,” Maria says.

“He’s a good man.”

“And you a good woman.” Maria rests her hand, thin and elegant, on her knee. “You shouldn’t be left lonely like this.”

“Well, I am lonely no longer, it seems.”

+

Maria stays in the room that Angelica usually stays in when she visits (it’s been so long, too long); Eliza hasn’t been in there for a while and her eyes are drawn straight to the books Angelica has left there from past visits, dust layered thick on their covers. 

She shows Maria to the room and watches as she bounces down onto the bed. Her curious eyes look around, in awe, and eventually settle onto her, lingering in the doorway. Her lips quirk and she tilts her head to the side; her eyebrows rise, like a question, like an invitation. Eliza stares back at her, feeling caught.

Maria rises from the bed and approaches slow, like Eliza’s a skittish doe; Eliza becomes acutely aware of her naked shoulder, the sharp jut of her collarbone, the way her hair sways as she walks towards her. “Won’t you come in?”

“I apologise, but I’m afraid I’d better return to my duties,” Eliza says apologetically, ducking her head to evade Maria’s dark eyes. She steps back, only to have Maria grasp her wrist. Her heart stutters dangerously.

“Don’t leave me lonely, miss,” she murmurs, playful and too close. “Stay?”

A question with no answer; Maria’s mouth is on hers and she can’t, doesn’t say no. Her back pressed against the door frame and Maria’s hands tangled deep in her hair, her chest doesn't feel hollow, is full with guilt and shame and desire, burning molten, setting her aflame from the inside. 

Maria releases her lips— pauses for beat, breath warm against her damp lips, and Eliza knows what she should do, what a good woman should do— and then kisses her jaw, her neck, her shoulder; Eliza’s mouth is free and gasping, and still, she doesn't say no. Instead, she lets herself be lead away from the open door, her hair loose, eyes fluttering closed, and her lips caught once again. 

She stays. 


End file.
